


Goodbye, Connor

by TheMoreLovingOne



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Angst, Coping, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loss, Loss of a Friend, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMoreLovingOne/pseuds/TheMoreLovingOne
Summary: “I just… I know logically it wasn’t my fault but… I just talked to him. He fell asleep. I felt so safe and I… I thought he did too.” Brooke sniffled and rubbed her eyes on her sleeve, grateful, not for the first time, that she didn't wear makeup. She felt so alone. The only person she wanted was him and he wasn’t there. And he would never be there again.





	Goodbye, Connor

“Brooke…” Connor’s voice was soft but Brooke jerked awake anyway, her eyes instantly flicking to the clock. Three fifty-six in the morning. Had he slept at all? She stretched and turned the clock face down, squashing her face into her pillow to collect herself.

“Yeah?” she asked after a moment, yawning and rubbing her eyes. It took her a minute to readjust to the brightness of her desk lamp.

“Remember when we first met?” he asked, and she could hear him shifting restlessly on his sheets.

“Of course I do,” she said, thinking back to the day, struggling to keep her eyes open. “I saw you turned away in the lunch line and I gave you lunch out of my backpack.”

“Yeah… You changed everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done that day. I was so mad… I  _ always _ get so mad...”

“I know. But you were okay. And you’re okay now. We’ll get through all of this together. I promise. I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know… I love you Brooke.”

“I love you too, Connor.” She flicked her lamp off, snuggling back under her soft, thick comforters. The warmth engulfed her and she yawned again, closing her eyes. She was still awake, still listening, waiting for his breathing to even out.

“I know I can be… difficult.” His voice was thick, like tears were caught in his throat.

“Shhh, no you’re not. Sweetheart. You’re so good. So good. And we’re gonna keep getting better and keep trying, okay? You’re my best friend. You’re everything to me.” She reached out for her phone, propped up and charging next to her head. The video showed him, facing away from her. She could see the taut muscles of his back, shaking under pale skin, his curls pulled back away from his face and brushing the tops of his shoulder blades. If she were there she’d push them away and hold him. She thought for a minute about getting up and grabbing her bag and driving over there. She’d pick him up for school in the morning anyway. She didn't think she’d need to tonight though.

She heard a sharp intake of breath. He was crying.

“Sweetheart look at me,” she said, turning her lamp back on and sitting up. She pulled the phone up to her face and waited. When he turned over his face was all puffy and messy tears had stuck his hair to his sharp features. He was struggling to stop making noise. The last thing he needed was Cynthia coming in to check on him and say the wrong thing. Always the wrong thing. She reached her hand out to caress him before remembering that it was just on the phone.

“I’m sorry. I just… I don’t understand why you’re  _ here _ . What do you possibly have to gain from this? What do you get besides fucking worry and stress?” He buried his face in his hands, gripping his hair like it was all he had left to hold onto, his knuckles white from the pressure.

“I get you. And I love you. And even if you gave me nothing, that would be enough. But you give me so much joy and love and you don’t see it but I do. It feels so good whenever you think of something and show it to me, or make me something. It feels good to know I matter. You make me laugh and you make me smile and you make me want to get up and bake in the morning, to make things better. Make a difference. You said I changed everything for you, but you changed everything for me too. Chloe doesn’t order me around anymore. I  _ came out _ . You make me feel so brave, so beautiful, so loved. You’re my best friend, Connor. I would do anything for you. You don’t have to feel like… Like you’re not enough. You’re everything.” She took a deep breath, feeling her own eyes well up. She wiped them away, smiling softly at him into the phone.

“...Is that enough?” he asked, impatiently swiping his arm across his face and just making a bigger mess.

“That’ll always be enough,” she promised. He looked a little better after that, nodding and reaching for an actual tissue to clean his face before settling in under his blankets again.

“Okay…” he said slowly. “Okay.”

“Do you want me to come over?” she asked, her hands subconsciously twitching in the direction of her keys. He shook his head, letting his body collapse onto his mattress.

“No… I’ll be okay. I’m sorry about this.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Everyone needs to know they’re needed sometimes,” she said softly, laying back down, feeling her tired body sink into all the soft things on her bed. Stuffed animals, throw pillows, blankets, all gave way until she felt like she was laying in a cloud. Connor looked at her, his dark eyes shining in the artificial light of his phone. She smiled at him again, setting her phone back down on the charger and rolling onto her side so he could see her. He slept better when he could see her.

“I love you…” he mumbled, burying his face in his pillow. Brooke rubbed her eyes one last time.

“I love you too sweetheart,” she said, closing her eyes. He fell asleep almost instantly, and even though he wouldn’t get much sleep it was better than none at all. She thought about going to his house to surprise him anyway, but she fell asleep before she could even move a muscle…

* * *

 

Everything about this was wrong. She had just seen him. She had  _ just _ seen him. He had just fallen asleep with her the night before last. How could this have happened?  _ How _ ?

The car shuddered to a stop and she clutched her own skirt. She was wearing the only black thing she owned. A crushed velvet dress with a white collar. She felt like fucking Wednesday Addams. Connor hated it when she wore too much black, anyway. He said it made her look sad. He hated it when she looked sad.

He hated all of this. Or he would have. If he were fucking here. She felt the need to kick and scream and throw things. But she bit it all back and started sobbing again, bringing her knees up on to the seat and burying her face into them. So much crying. So much. She hadn’t stopped since she’d found out. She wondered if she ever would.

A hand knocked on her car door and she flinched, looking up. Janis was there, looking remarkably toned down for, well. For being Janis. She sniffled and started crying harder, popping the door open and reaching out for her. Janis hugged her tightly and after a moment, helped her out. They walked into the door of the funeral parlor, and Brooke immediately started sweating, feeling trapped and surrounded despite there not being very many people at all, much less very many around her. She felt like everyone’s eyes were on her.

“Breathe, Brooke. Breathe.” Janis gently guided her to the side where the funeral register was. She flinched seeing barely half the page taken up. No one fucking cared about Connor. Not like her.  She fought the urge to rip the page out and instead picked up the pen in her hand. She could see herself shaking but she couldn’t feel it, couldn’t stop it. Scrawling her name, she set it back down and leaned against the wall, desperate to get herself together. She couldn’t face Cynthia and Larry like this. Who knew the kind of shit she’d say? And Zoe… Zoe would need someone to lean on. She couldn’t do this. Not right now.

She righted herself slowly and moved into the main room.

God he would have hated all the flowers.

“You’re the only flower I need,” he’d said once. She’d laughed and said she felt more like a cactus. He said someone who drank as much water as her could never be a cactus.

Her heart broke a little more thinking about it.

She scanned the room. Evan and Heidi were sat to one side and she felt Janis pull away and go to her best friend. She felt for them both. Evan and Connor were getting closer, making up for the darkness in their pasts. She and Janis had been so fucking excited when they’d decided to start getting to know each other. And now… Now that would never happen. She wondered if Janis was grateful that it was Connor and not Evan. She hated herself for wondering it.

Larry, Cynthia, and Zoe were at the front of the room next to the… the casket. She swallowed, pushing her knotted hair away from her face and walked over to them, wondering if she looked as messed up as she felt. She was certain she did. Cynthia got choked up when she saw her.

“Brooke!” she sobbed, grabbing her and pulling her in for a hug. Brooke stiffened but returned it for the sake of civility.

“I’m so… so sorry, Cynthia. I’m sorry.” She pulled away, glancing at Zoe. The other girl’s face was stony and cold. Brooke reached out and touched her arm gently. She softened a little under Brooke’s touch but stayed where she was. Brooke swallowed again and glanced at the casket. Dark wood. Tasteful. Something he’d actually approve of.

She still didn't have the heart to look inside.

Cynthia must have caught her looking because she grabbed Brooke’s hand again.

“Did he… I mean… Did you…?”

“If you’re asking me if I knew this was coming, I didn't,” Brooke snapped. Her voice was cold and harsh. Cynthia’s face screwed up in shame.

“I’m sorry, of course not! I’m sorry…” She left and Larry went after her. Zoe crossed her arms.

“They asked me too. I’m glad Janis and Heidi are here, because otherwise I’m sure they would’ve asked Evan too… He’s not doing too great.”

Brooke shook her head, trying to sort herself out.

“I just… I know logically it wasn’t my fault but… I just talked to him. He fell asleep. I felt so safe and I… I thought he did too.” Brooke sniffled and rubbed her eyes on her sleeve, grateful, not for the first time, that she didn't wear makeup. She felt so alone. The only person she wanted was him and he wasn’t there. And he would never be there again.

She should’ve gone to his house.

She should’ve been there.

Zoe  tucked her hair behind her ear and squeezed her shoulders gently.

“Brooke. You were the best friend my brother ever had. You did so much fucking good for him, you made him better. You couldn’t have changed this. You did everything you could.”

“You really think so?” she asked. Zoe nodded, but her face twisted into a scowl.

“I do think so. This was his fault. If he weren’t so fucking selfish all the time, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Selfish? You think he was selfish? He was so fucking good to  _ me _ . Everyone thinks ‘Oh Connor is so needy and dependent. Oh, Connor is such an asshole, what does Brooke see in him? Oh, Connor doesn’t have anything to offer the world.’ Connor was  _ everything _ ! He gave me  _ everything _ ! He gave me my life back. He made me feel like I was worth so much more than anyone else ever has!” She wrenched herself away from Zoe, hurt blossoming on her face and her fists clenching her skirt tightly.

“And then he left! He always left us! Always! Nothing we did was good enough!”

“You were good enough! He fucking loved you! It was  _ them _ .” she swept her arm in the direction Cynthia and Larry had run off in. “ _ They _ weren’t good enough. All he wanted was for them to listen, for fucking once.” Brooke had never sworn so much before, but there was a pit of acid in her stomach and she didn't know what else she could do besides throw it up onto everyone who would listen. Her heart felt… tight. Like she couldn’t breathe properly, like it wasn’t beating right.

Everything was wrong.

“If I was good enough then why didn't he act like it?” Zoe demanded, her voice nearly a shout. They were starting to draw attention which was the last thing Brooke needed. She’d eviscerate them all with her words and her pain.

Once, after reading a debate she’d written for English, Connor had laughed and said to her, “This is why English majors are scary.”

She wondered how he’d feel about some of the cruel thoughts running through her head.

“He did!” Brooke insisted. “Or at least he tried!”

“...He didn't try hard enough.”

“He… He loved you so fucking much,” Brooke said, barely away of another curse leaving her mouth. All her words tasted the same right now. Bitter. Like black coffee, spilling out instead of being swallowed down.

“I loved him too…” Zoe said and broke down, her shoulders quaking. She didn't make noise when she cried. It was silent and raw, like it was ripping her apart from inside out. It set Brooke off again and she latched onto the younger girl. They both held each other together in that moment, trying their damnedest to keep the dark thoughts away, the blame, the guilt. After all, the grief was enough.

“I’m sorry,” Zoe said into her shoulder, taking a deep, shuddery breath. “He’s not selfish. I don’t know why I said that.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine. We don’t have to… We don’t have to talk about it.” Brooke pulled away, brushing the girl’s hair back, straightening her blouse. She was always taking care of people. It made her feel better. Especially since at that moment, she couldn’t even take care of herself.

_ Or Connor _ , said a soft voice in her head and Brooke squashed it down.

“It wasn’t your fault… I mean it Brooke. When you were around… It was like Connor came to life. Like before you he wasn’t… whole. You were his best friend. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I… I didn't go to your house the other night,” Brooke said softly. “I… I thought about it. But he’d stopped crying and he fell asleep and he looked exhausted and… I had no way to- no way to…” She choked on her words and buried her face in her hands. Zoe sighed.

“You had no way to know… I wish I could go back to every fight we ever had and just… stop. Tell him I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure he knows. I don’t know what comes after this but… I’m sure he knows.”

“Thanks…” Zoe said, clearly unconvinced. “It’s not the same as hearing it from me.”

“I know… I wish I could go back to last night. Go to your house. Wake him up in the morning with the double chocolate muffins I make that he liked… Made sure this didn't happen.”

“I… I think that no matter what you would have done last night, it would’ve… happened.”

“But why? Why did he do it?” Brooke felt herself crying. She wondered if she’d even stopped or if she’d just stopped being aware of it.

“I don’t know… I don’t know why… I’ve asked myself so many times but I don’t know why. I don’t know if we ever will.”

“I wish he would’ve told me… He could’ve told me anything. Anything! I would’ve been there. Why didn't he let me? Why didn't he want me there?”

“He probably knew you’d talk him out of it,” Zoe said, looking into the casket. Brooke flinched at the thought, feeling guilty for that and for the fact that instead of letting Zoe lean on her, she was the one falling apart. Zoe was being so strong… Besides one flash of anger. And here Brooke was, not even breaking down because she was just already broken. And she didn't think she’d ever get better.

“Of course I would have… I don’t… I don’t know how to keep going. Without him.” Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it. Chloe again. She turned it off, her hands shaking so hard she missed the power button a couple times.

“I… I guess we just will because we don’t have a choice.”

“It’s not fair,” Brooke said, burying her face in her hands. “It’s not fucking fair.”

“No, it’s not. But… that’s what we got.”

Everything was wrong.

“I’m gonna go… Do something else. Talk to Evan. I can’t stand her so close to… it.” She couldn’t bring herself to say “him” like he was somehow still there. That wasn’t him.

Zoe nodded and gave her one last hug, visibly pulling herself together and slipping away to find her parents. Brooke couldn’t bring herself to feel any sympathy for Larry and Cynthia. Call her callous, but there was nothing left inside of her for them. She made eye contact with Janis, who nodded. She wanted to make sure Janis was okay with her going. Janis knew Evan better than anyone, and she’d know if Evan was up for her company.

She came over and sat by him.

“Hey Evan,” she said softly. “I’m… Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, I know he was your b-best f-friend and it’s probably completely selfish for me to be acting like this when C-C-Connor and I barely knew each other but I can’t help it and-”

“Ev, it’s fine, you’re not selfish. You’re human. You loved him in your own way. Please.” Janis pulled him against her, letting him sob into her chest, wrapping her arms around him like he was a child. Heidi joined on the other side, and Brooke felt a pang in her chest. Evan was loved like she loved Connor, unconditionally. It hadn’t been enough though.

“She’s right, Evan. It’s not selfish to mourn. I’m glad to see you here over everyone else. You may not have known him well but you knew him better than anyone else here, I promise you.” She reached out and hesitantly squeezed his hand. It was the only part of him she could really touch that wasn’t being held by Janis and Heidi. She wished Connor had had a Heidi of his own. A mom who took care of him and loved him no matter how broken he was

“B-Brooke, I. I hope you f-f-eel better,” Evan stuttered out. She wondered if his shaking was from anxiety or crying or both. Probably both.

“I don’t know when it’ll happen, but thank you Evan… I hope you do too.” She felt like an outsider so even after just sitting down she stood up again. She didn't know where she was going until she ended up there. A bathroom. She closed and locked the door and sat on the floor, hugging her knees. It was cold but she didn't care. She didn't know what else to do, even if she did care.

She didn't feel like being around anyone else right now. She wanted to go home and put on her ugliest, comfiest pajamas and bury herself in one of the hoodies he’d left at her house, steal one of his blankets. Surround herself with him. It was all she could think of to feel better, to feel anything besides grief and emptiness.

She also was sure she owed it to him to stay. To speak and… say goodbye. She was the only one who really knew him. It would be wrong to leave without, well, standing up for him. One last time. She sniffled, raking her fingers through her knotted, messy hair, trying to make herself some semblance of presentable. For him. Only for him.

Outside she heard the people start to gather and sit. She forced herself to stand, taking a deep breath before rejoining the meager crowd. She found a seat at the front and waited, letting herself fade away, letting herself think of nothing. Letting herself be nothing.

She was grateful for Janis because when it was time for her to speak Janis nudged her and gestured to the front.

As she made her way to stand by it… Him. She could feel the sick feelings, the acid pit, the bitterness. It all came back with a vengeance and by the time she was in front of anyone she could feel the tears threatening to pour again. But for now she wouldn’t let them.

“Hello everyone. My name is Brooke. Lohst. I’m- I was- I mean. I’m Connor’s best friend.” She flinched internally at the stumble, at the uncertainty of the words, the tenses. Essays and short stories could never have prepared her for this. “I don’t know w-why he did this, or… Why he isn’t standing here next to me right now. I don’t know if I ever really will. But what I do know, is that Connor was so, so much more than people thought he was. Connor was… Everything. He was the moon lingering in the early morning. He was the feeling of relief after a brain freeze. He was the sunlight dappling the leaves in the fall, and the first swim of late spring when it’s too cold but you don’t care because you’re so… so fucking exhilarated to be in the water again. And he had his flaws. He got angry and he lashed out but he was so loving and so kind to people who deserved it, who needed it.” Her eyes flicked to Evan who was watching her, rapt and tearful.

“He taught himself how to draw, because he wanted to bring beauty into the world. He wanted to travel and see beautiful things. He loved nature. And he loved his family. So much more than they can ever know. There was so, so much to him that people refused to see. And it’s a shame and it’s wrong because if you had just bothered to look at him, hear him- you would’ve seen something beautiful. And if he would’ve looked closer at himself, he would’ve seen it too. I loved him. I love him now. He may not be here. But I am. And I am going to live up to what he saw in me. He believed in me. I wish he would’ve known how much I believed in him too.” She finally made herself turn and look in the casket.

His hair was brushed out in soft waves, the kind that would happen when she’d deep condition his hair and brush it out for him. She loved those days. He said she made him feel human. His skin looked softer, somehow. She reached out a tentative hand and touched his face. A last ditch piece of her wished he’d grab her hand and she’d wake up and this would all have been a cruel nightmare.

But that wouldn’t happen. She kissed her palm and brushed it against his cheek.

“I know this isn’t you. Not really. But. I hope wherever you are you know how much I love you. And I hope you’re saving me a place next to you. We promised to do that in junior high, remember? If one of us gets somewhere first, we’d save a place. We promised.” She managed a tiny, heartbroken smile. “Goodbye, Connor. I love you.” She sighed and walked away. She passed her row and walked straight to her car. She didn't wanna be around anyone else. She had said her piece.

Everything was fucking wrong.

The pain and the sick feelings were still there and honestly, they would be for a long time. She could tell. This was without a doubt the worst thing she’d ever felt, each part of it worse than the last. But she had to feel it. She couldn’t get rid of it. He’d tell her to take her time if she were here. He’d tell her it would fade eventually. She knew he was right, even if she felt like someone had scribbled over her heart with permanent marker at that moment.

He was always right, she felt like. Even when he swore up and down he wasn’t. Even when everything felt wrong, like now. He’d know what to do. He’d pick her up as much as she did him. No one saw that but her. She hoped he knew she appreciated him.

Connor was her soulmate. Moreso than any romantic “soulmate” could be. He took up her whole heart. They knew each other more intimately than she’d believed people  _ could _ know each other before him. It was like they were their own little world sometimes. Like they could be in a crowd of people and only see each other. Maybe romantic soulmates didn't exist. But best friend soulmates did. They had to.

She shook her head to clear it and drove home. Her mother tried to talk to her but she ignored her, climbing the stairs as fast as possible so she could do what she’d planned. Fuzzy pajama pants. His hoodie. Getting out of the clothes he would have hated. Curled up into bed with the blanket she saved for when he spent the night. Taking in the smell of him. If she laid still and closed her eyes, she could almost pretend he was there with her. Wrapped around her. Like he’d never left.

Like she hadn’t just said goodbye.


End file.
